


Not Always a Heartless Bastard

by SSWolfe



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Air ghoul - Freeform, Alpha Ghoul - Freeform, Earth ghoul - Freeform, F/M, Omega Ghoul - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Papa Emeritus II - Freeform, Satanic Church, Water Ghoul - Freeform, ghost bc - Freeform, ghost the band - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SSWolfe/pseuds/SSWolfe
Summary: Kiara waits patiently for confession when a memory of their past Pope, Papa Emeritus II comes back to her, reminding her that regardless of how many feared him when he reigned, there was something about his heart she would never forget.





	

Kiara stood in line impatiently, waiting for the slow-moving group to diminish. She hated confession. It wasn't that she didn't mind speaking to the Deacons or Fathers, she just didn't think that it was necessary for these men to know her every secret. Hell, she had drinks with Father Air and Father Alpha at the bar just the other day, talking about their Pope and, strangely, cats..?

 

She shook her head and cracked her knuckles, pupping her thumbs loudly to feel powerful. At least if she got Father Air or Father Alpha, it would be a quick "don't do that again, five Hell Satan's" conversation before they made more plans to go elsewhere. She was close enough with the clergymen, which was at first only out of necessity. In fact, she was now loathed for it.

 

It seemed ironic to her to call a Church of Satan's congregation a cult following. How these men put up with countless hours at the pulpit with women salivating over their existence was beyond her. She would have brought an AK _years_ ago. Thongs in the offering plate, or hiding under the pews… it was distasteful.

 

She tapped her foot like a rabbit, trying to distract herself from her disgust, and her mind wandered to the Pope of their clergy. They were on their third one in ten years, though not for lack of trying. The first had been the forerunner for the creation of the church. He was an older gentleman that had a thing for the women. Bitter, yet womanizing. Though, despite his faults, he had been a marvelous leader up until his body would not handle standing at the pulpit for an hour and a half sermon. His whereabouts remained a mystery, though there was assurance that he was alive and well, being cared for in an undisclosed location.

 

Now the second… he was a very powerful man, and she loved him to no end. There was nothing weak about him, be it his teachings or even his stature. Strong and sturdy, bearing the weight of his congregation with pride. He was the man that coined the Pope title, "Papa Emeritus." The name was rather fitting, though it had been a while before she could comfortably call such an imposing figure by something so familiar.

 

She had actually taken time to get to know him, though… His loss had been tough on the church, yes, but he had been a damned good mentor. Despite his appearance, the man did have a heart. When she had found out that her mother had stage four pancreatic cancer, it had been right before mass, nearly a year and a half ago now. And when it came time for her to confess, she had ironically ended up in his booth. That day… she remembered it clearly.

 

_Nothing was going right. She was convinced that everything was out to get her today. She had spilled her coffee all over the damned island, soaking her paperwork that was due for the next board meeting at the firm, something that had taken her two hours_ at least _to do. The garbage disposal was backed up again, which made no sense. And her husky had torn a hole in her favorite riding boots. She was almost tempted to make sure her Harley Night Rod hadn't combusted in the garage at this point._

 

_So, with another cup of coffee, she scrolled through her Facebook news feed, ignoring the apologetic whimpers of the imprisoned dog. He knew he had fucked up._

 

_Just then, her phone screen went blank for half a second before an unknown number showed up on the screen. Figuring it best to not ignore it on today of all days, she answered. Maybe this was her bad luck coming to an end and she had won a million dollars._

 

_"Hello?" she answered._

 

_"Hello, this is Central Memorial Hospital calling for… Kiara Credence," a kind female voice responded._

 

_A hospital? Why would she be getting a call from the hospital? She didn't recall having any tests done…_

 

_"Uh, this… is Kiara. What is this about?" she questioned suspiciously. She ran through scenarios in her head, and none of them seemed likely in this instance._

 

_"Miss Credence, this phone call is regarding your mother, Mary. She was hospitalized last evening after reporting that there was an excruciating pain in her abdomen. We ran tests… there are advanced cancer cells in her pancreas, too far advanced for us to do anything more than keep her comfortable. She may not have too much time left, so I would recommend you visit her soon. She has been asking for you since she woke up."_

 

_Kiara was frozen. Her stomach twisted and rolled painfully, and her grip on her coffee mug would have put Rocky Balboa to shame. She was numb. She was completely numb._

 

_"Miss Credence?" the lady asked again._

 

_"Uh… I, um… I will be over after morning mass. Tell Mom I love her, and will see her very soon." She hung up. There were no tears. There was no emotion, and that scared her. If the shock was this bad… coming out of it was going to be excruciating. So she sat there, time but a blur to her._

 

_So, now essentially a mindless zombie, she began to go through her normal routine, brushing her hair and teeth and applying a light coat of eye shadow and eye liner. She looked into the mirror, the cerulean eyes in the reflection not her own. These ones were almost cloudy, yet dark. There was no sign of life in them._

 

_She almost wanted to skip mass. Nobody needed to know that any of this was going on. But if she didn't go, she would have no distraction from the inevitable. Checking the time on her phone, she made way to her kitchen, chugged what was left of her coffee, and grabbed her jacket. On the way out of the door, she grabbed her purse and keys._

 

_The ride to mass was short-lived, and she begrudgingly left the comfort of her car. She was horribly late, making it just before Father Omega released the mass and everyone made their way out of the sanctuary. In ten minutes, there would be confession._

 

_She made her way to the doors, behind three eager women anxiously waiting to divulge their sins to whichever man was unlucky. They chattered amongst each other, obnoxious and scantily dressed. It was disgusting._

 

_She waited… and waited… and then someone bumped into her right as confession was about to open._

 

_"Hey, watch where you're going, bimbo!" growled the lady who bumped into her. Kiara looked at her with a blank expression._

 

_"What, are you high or something? Cat got your tongue? You retarded?" one of the girl's friends chided after she didn't respond. Something snapped, and forgetting the growing line of men and women behind her, Kiara cocked back a fist and drove it into the second woman's nose job._

 

_There were gasps and squeaks as all fell silent, and Kiara walked past the crouched women and into the doors. There would be repercussions, but she didn't care. Her first didn't even hurt._

 

_She entered the middle booth and sat as others filed in behind her to do the same and took a seat, loving the quiet and darkness._

 

_"Excuse me for a minute, Father. I just need a minute…" She collected herself quickly and sighed, cracking her neck. She was the outline of a man in the other side of the booth, so she knew she wasn't alone. Idly, she wondered who it was._

 

_"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession. Yeah, you know the whole spiel._

 

_"Anyways, last week… Shit… Hm. Well, I don't remember much. I spent most of it drunk. Like, seriously drunk. Whiskey is a beautiful poison. Bachelorette parties aren't supposed to last a week. How the hell am I still alive, I don't know._

 

_"Oh! Um… this might get me kicked out of your booth, but I think I broke someone's nose out there. The women in this church are batshit- wow, okay, I apologize for swearing so much. It's been a crap day." She took a breath and felt a prickling sensation in the back of her throat._ No! _Not here… please, not here…_

 

_"I, uh… got a phone call this morning… The hospital, er… kinda told me that my mother has advanced, terminal pancreatic cancer?" She felt a tear roll down her cheek. When had she teared up? "I apologize. I'm not an emotional person, and you probably deal with enough bullshit. But… I guess, it's like… she's my best friend, and, uh… all I have left? I don't know where my father- ah, screw it. You don't want to know that stuff. Anyways, um… yeah." Her voice quivered during the last sentence, much to her disdain. She put her head in her hands and focused on her breathing. This was not the time or place for this!_

 

_"Sorry, sir, uh…" Kiara cleared her throat through the tears. "I don't mean to be emotional. I swore to myself I wouldn't be, but… yeah, I am very sorry…"_

 

_Yet… the booth remained completely silent, save her labored breathing. It was disconcerting, but what could she expect? Here she was, in a Church of Satan, getting far too emotional for her own good. So, she sat for a good fifteen seconds, forced herself into composure, and stood to leave. At this point, whoever was in the other side of the booth didn't need to tell her anything. She had completed her confession requirement and took her leave. Right as she opened the mesh door, a dark shadow cast over her and the booth._

 

_"Hey, sorry I took so long, I-" Her downcast eyes hadn't registered that it was the unholy Pope himself standing outside. "Papa, what..?"_

 

_"Come with me, little one." His voice was deep, but there was an air of caring and compassion laced in his words. He offered a gloved hand, and she stared at it blankly._

 

_"Papa, it's okay. I'll let you get back to your-"_

 

_He waved her off before taking her hand firmly in his own. Oh, it was so warm… She knew better, however, than to deny him anything at this point. If he was being persistent like this, it was best to follow. So, he gripped his hand lightly in return and followed him out of the room, much to the chagrin of watching women. She remained completely mute, as did Papa II._

 

_A short trip down a hall and two quick turns later saw the pair at the front of Papa's office. He unlocked the door smoothly, opening it and gesturing for her to enter. She obeyed hesitantly, walking in with Papa behind her. He closed his door behind them and motioned for her to sit down. Again, she obeyed reluctantly._

 

_Papa took up post in his own office chair, removing his mitre and placing it on the desk. Mismatched eyes looked back at Kiara expectantly, and she had no idea what to say._

 

_"Kiara, why did you apologize to me?" he asked._

 

_She couldn't meet his gaze, choosing instead to look at the legs of his desk. Hmm, was that mahogany?_

 

_"Please, look at me, dear one."_

 

_She sat there, hesitant to obey yet complying anyways. She looked him in the eye and fiddled with the hem of her shirt._

 

_"Which apology are you referring to, sir?" she asked._

 

_"The one about being emotional. Why did you apologize?" he asked patiently._

 

_"Er, well… It's just, you and the others have a lot to deal with, and the congregation only grows and grows and I didn't want to take up any of your time with my bullshit and I don't know, I guess I have always viewed my tears as admitting defeat somehow, and what I said about my mother really wasn't necessary for my confessional so I am really sorry-"_

 

_"_ Kiara _."_

 

_She stopped speaking immediately._

 

_"Promise me that you will_ never _apologize for being emotional, especially in this instance. What is going on with your mother is tragic, and incredibly tough to bear on your own. The priests here, myself included, are not a show for you all. We truly do care, and I am happy you brought this to my attention." He stood from his chair, rolling it back. Kiara absently wondered how he did that without getting it caught on his robes._

 

_"I'm sorry, Papa…" she replied, looking down as he stood. Her eyes stung from tears, the same damned ones she had fought avidly to shake in the booth._

 

_"Look at me, little one…" he requested. She couldn't bring herself to. Despite his words, it was too difficult. So, Papa bent a bit before her and lifted her chin up to his eye level with a single finger. She couldn’t hold back much longer. Lucifer, how pathetic she must have looked…_

 

_"Come here, Kiara," he asked. He opened his arms, and it was like a dam had broken. She all but flung herself into the tender, silky embrace and held on for dear life._

 

_Papa's arms held her tightly, feeling the silent sobs wracking her body. She was shaking, fighting to stay quiet, but it was hard. Papa was portrayed as a cold, ruthless bastard and he damn well could be, but when his children needed him, he was there._

 

_"I don't know what to do, P-papa..." Kiara managed through her tears. His hand reached up and began stroking her hair tenderly, only succeeding in making the poor girl cry harder. "She's the only thing I have left..."_

 

_"All you can do is be there for her, my child. She is undoubtedly terrified as well, but she is in pain. We both know that..." He sighed deeply, unable to come up with anything really reassuring to say._

 

_"I know, b-but... I can't lose her!" Kiara cried out. Her arms tightened around Papa, something she didn't think possible._

 

_"My dear girl, we don't want to be selfish," he lightly chastised, patting her back twice. Kiara was silent._

 

_The pair stood like that for a few minutes, Kiara eventually calming down. She went to pull away from Papa, lowering her head. But, as before, Papa caught her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his mismatched eyes._

 

_"Don't be ashamed." He wiped the remaining tears under her eyes with his thumb before turning around and grabbing a tissue. He handed her the tissue and leaned against his desk._

 

_"I'm sorry... thank you, Papa. I... think I needed that," she chuckled wetly. She used the tissue and threw it in the trash beside the desk._

 

_"You're very welcome. I'm here, understand? I am always here. Do not worry, I won't pass judgement on you for being human, nor for showing tears."_

 

_"Yes, Papa..."_

 

_"Good girl. Now, is there anything else you need to discuss?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, tone booking no argument._

 

_"No, Papa."_

 

_"Alright. Now, go. Be with your mother. We shall pray to the Dark Lord for all to be painless, and for Him to be with you both in your time of need. Confide in Him, and in us. Allow us to be your stronghold. Okay?"_

 

_"Yes, Papa." Kiara fiddled with her shirt hem again._

 

_"Wonderful. I shall see you soon, my child." He stood up and patted her head affectionately. And with that, she took her leave, feeling considerably better after her breakdown. Papa had helped build her back up, and she was better prepared to face this new challenge. He was a great man._

 

_She got into her car and took a deep, steadying breath. Filled with a new sense of determination, she buckled herself in, started the car, and departed for the hospital._

 

_Thank you, Papa..._


End file.
